


seasons roll on by

by IntheMoment



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntheMoment/pseuds/IntheMoment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like it was only yesterday they were drinking moonshine and burning down bad memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	seasons roll on by

**Author's Note:**

> Five ficlets written for [sparkwrites](http://sparkwrites.tumblr.com) challenge: [March Challenge #1 Bingo](http://sparkwrites.tumblr.com/post/78260227497/).
> 
> I chose: Scarred, Seasons, Grave, Seeking Solace, Stop Time.
> 
> Spoilers for all seasons up to Season 4, Episode 12 - Still

+++||+++

 **scarred**  
  
He's not sure when he stopped being ashamed of the scars on his back. Maybe after Merle turned. His brother was the only person left on the Earth who knew how Daryl had come by them, even if he couldn't understand what each one had cost. When Merle had seen them he seemed shocked which surprised Daryl. Didn't see how his brother could think that just because he got the hell out of that house the old man was going to stop putting his fist, or anything else that came handy, to someone. Like he'd never beat on someone smaller? Daryl couldn't remember a time when that had ever given the son of a bitch any pause. And it didn't matter how careful a person was, never could predict what was going to set the old man off . Some days Daryl didn't think it was anything more than breathing wrong that caused the shit storm to rain down on anyone within reach.  
  
Hershel'd seen all the marks. Never commented on them. Probably figured it was none of his business how Daryl had come by them. Old man was good like that. Or maybe he knew too well what went on inside a house where people drank and fought on a daily basis.  
  
Daryl wasn't sure who all aside from Hershel and Carol had traipsed in and out of that room at the Greene farm where he'd recuperated after Andrea shot him, but no one ever said anything. Couldn't tell if people pitied him or were embarrassed for him; they looked at him funny before, just the same after, and he really didn't give a fuck either way. Hell, wasn't like no one else had anything they didn't want everyone knowin'.  
  
The more he saw of people, he realized they all had devils in their pasts, big and small. One thing he'd learned since the world had gone to shit was that it didn't much matter who people were before, just what they did now.  
  


+++||+++

 **seasons**  
  
 _“And I'm lost behind the words I'll never find_  
 _And I'm left behind as seasons roll on by”_  
― Chris Cornell  
  
It's been a few years since the world fell apart. He's seen seasons roll by, lost people along the way, but he's still here.  
  
He's still here.  
  
There were a lot of days in between then and now when it would have been easier to just give up. After Merle was killed. After Hershel...damn, he still can't find the words for what that was even as long as it's been. After Beth disappeared. He's not sure what kept him putting one foot in front of the other. Force of habit. Doing something, going somewhere, was better than stayin' in one place, thinkin' about what he lost and all the things he didn't do right.  
  
It was spitting icy, stinging rain when he met back up with Maggie. Fitting for the news he'd given her that day in the stillness of winter. He's never gonna understand how she forgave him.  
  
Dead on summer, sweltering heat that presses down around him and keeps closing in until it's hard to breathe. But that isn't why he can't catch his breath when she comes walking through the door, Maggie grinnin' behind her. He can't figure out if he's lost his mind, just seeing echoes of things he thinks about most every day.  
  
"Did ya miss me while I was gone, Daryl Dixon?"  
  
He knows he's standing there with his mouth hanging open like a simple minded fool. She crosses the gap between them, throws her arms around him, and hugs him like it was only yesterday they were drinking moonshine and burning down bad memories.  
  
"Nah," he says, his voice creaking like a rusty old gate, "Not a damn bit." He's not surprised when his voice breaks and she hugs him again tighter than the first time.  
  
"Me neither," she whispers. "Was tired of takin' care of your ass."  
  
He hugs a little harder too before letting go and stepping away from her, still not sure she's flesh and blood and not some fanciful dream come back to haunt him. Even if it is, it's a damn sight better than the nightmares that have plagued him since he lost her.  
  
Didn't always count himself the lucky one...until now.  
  


+++||+++

 **grave**  
  
Daryl moved across the road, his focus on the house in the distance. It would be good to get inside before dark and check out Beth's foot to see how bad the trap had snapped her. A few rows into the graveyard he stopped to hitch her higher up on his back but she asked him to wait and slid down. He turned to find her eyes glued to one of the stones.  
  


Nov 12th 1837

Dec 10th 1874

BELOVED FATHER

Couldn't say as how he knew from first hand experience what a beloved father acted like. His old man had been a piece of work who'd spent most all of Daryl's life drowning in a bottle and striking out against anything that moved. Just in the short time Daryl had known Hershel, he'd watched the man be a father to more people than just his own daughters. He helped them, didn't expect anything in return, but he wasn't a push over for anyone. Well, except maybe his two girls. There were times he'd seen them wrap that old man around their little fingers and it was plain as day Hershel knew exactly what they were doing, too.

Now there was a stillness to Beth. He wasn't sure she even knew how she felt about what happened. He'd seen the vacant look in her eyes, watched her brush away tears when she didn't think he saw. Things had been easier since they lit fire to that cabin. She seemed ready to go on. Now though...seeing something like this, knowing her father would never have a headstone for anyone to lay eyes on, it was hard to say how it would affect her.

Her hand slipped into his, fingers fluttering softly to catch his up close. She leaned into him and he held steady, kept quiet and let her be. Wasn't really anything else to do. He sure as hell wasn't gonna start telling her everything was going to be fine. He couldn't quite picture that day no matter how hard he looked.

She'd get through it, or she wouldn't, just the same for all of them.

+++||+++

 **seeking solace**  
  
 _"Oh, how I long to find some solace_  
 _In my mind, I curse the strain_  
 _So, farewell, you streets of sorrow_  
 _And, farewell, you streets of pain”_  
― The Pogues  
  
He screams at her like a junkyard dog barks at anything that moves. Gets up in her face and rages that he ain't afraid of nothin'. Says hurtful things until he runs out of words and all he's left with are bad memories and regrets. For all the things he didn't do, all the things he should've done better.  
  
Because he's lost in the fear, he lashes out. It's the only thing he knows, the only way he's ever been taught to express his feelings. Hit first before someone hits you. Explode like a grenade that catches people off guard and does the most damage. Up close and personal. That way no one touches you. No one ever gets close enough to see you're all bark and not very much bite.  
  
He doesn't remember the last time, or really any time...ever...when someone put their arms around him and held him tight like Beth does now. Offering comfort, not asking for anything. He's never sought it out, realizes now he never thought he was worth it.  
  
Before he can stop them the sobs gut him. Beth grabs handfuls of his shirt and vest, holds on for all she's worth. They stand there until he can recognize the sun on his face and not the panic and fear running wild through his body. He sucks in a long, shaky breath and grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes, scrubbing away the tears that stain his face.  
  
He pats her hand gently, cries uncle in silence. When she lets go he walks over to where he dropped his crossbow and picks it up. The walker falls in a heap at the base of the tree when he pulls out the arrows. Once he turns around Beth's already turning the corner on the house, going up the stairs and inside.  
  
The girl is stronger than she looks. Stronger than he figured. Maybe stronger than he's ever been. Taking a deep breath that lifts his shoulders, he blows it out and turns to go into the house.  
  
Time to mend the hurt he put on her. It's the least he can do after what she did for him.  
  


+++||+++

 **stop time**  
  
He could hear her voice echoing in his head as he ran and ran and kept on running.  
  
 _"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon."_  
  
Finally, when he thought he was going to pass out because he couldn't catch his breath, he stopped. As his knees buckled he sank to the ground. Just for a minute, he thought, then he'd get up and decide which way. Keep going. Just keep going.  
  
The cool morning air burned his throat as harsh, rasping breaths broke the stillness that surrounded him. Wasn't sure how long he'd been chasing the car that took Beth, couldn't focus his mind on anything, just the sweat dripping into a puddle on the dusty, dry leaves that blanketed the asphalt.  
  
He'd never been a person who wished for much. Hell, anything really. Growing up the way he did, scraping and scratching for every pitiful thing he'd ever had, didn't give a person much cause to have faith that things would be better. And now, what little hope he'd started to count on, got snatched away from him in an instant. If only he could go back, stop time and do it all differently. He'd be smarter and faster and Beth'd still be annoying the crap out of him.  
  
 _"You're gonna be the last man standing. You are."_  
  
Wasn't standing at the moment.  
  


###


End file.
